


Not All Has Gone Astray

by skuldchan



Category: HIStory3 - 圈套 | HIStory3: Trapped
Genre: Chinese New Year, Domestic Fluff, Engaged Tang Yi/Meng Shao Fei, Fluff, M/M, Married Jack/Zhao Zi, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21985591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuldchan/pseuds/skuldchan
Summary: It’s Tang Yi’s first Chinese New Year celebration since being released from prison, and despite the chill between them, he extends Jack and Zhao Zi an invitation to the party.
Relationships: Gu Dao Yi/Zuo Hong Ye, Jack | Fang Liang Dian & Tang Yi, Jack | Fang Liang Dian/Zhao Li An | Zhao Zi, Meng Shao Fei/Tang Yi
Comments: 17
Kudos: 202
Collections: Trapped Gift Exchange





	Not All Has Gone Astray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weilongfu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weilongfu/gifts).



> Chinese New Year is also called the Spring Festival.

“Hey, Jack.”

Jack paused in the middle of stirring the dumpling filling, his metal fork sticking up out of the mixture of pork mince, shiitake mushrooms, and cabbage. That was Zhao Zi’s ‘I have something to tell you and you’re not gonna like it’ voice.

Zhao Zi sat at their kitchen table, slowly and methodically rolling out small chunks of dough into neat, thin, circular dumpling wrappers. He had only finished about five, so it wouldn’t be too much of a setback if Zhao Zi informed him he’d accidentally added sugar instead of salt to the recipe.

“What?” asked Jack, wanting to keep the tone light despite the inevitable weight of whatever it was that his husband was preparing to drop on him. 

“I talked to Ah-Fei today, and you know how he’s been spending New Year’s at our place?”

“Yep.” Jack had the feeling he knew where this was going, but he let Zhao Zi finish.

“Since Tang Yi’s been released, he invited us to their place.”

Jack turned back to his prep work. He had expected as much, since he had worked for Tang Yi long enough to know that the former mafia boss’s sense of honor would require him to return the kindness they had shown Shao Fei in full. Jack had figured even odds that Tang Yi would extend an invite for the Spring Festival banquet, or at the very least, send a very expensive and elaborate gift. A part of Jack hoped that they could have gotten away with just the gift, since he and Tang Yi hadn’t parted on the best of terms, a side effect of which was also an antagonistic relationship with Zuo Hong Ye, who would surely be attending the gathering as well. 

“And you want to go?” Jack asked, glancing up to look at his husband, who was looking hesitantly hopeful. There was a questioning set to Zhao Zi’s shoulders, and a slight hint of resignation which meant that if Jack expressed a strong desire to stay home instead, Zhao Zi would stay with him, even if he’d wanted to go.

A night in might be nice, Jack thought, playing through the possibilities of having New Year’s all for themselves and their little family of three cats. It was a cosy picture, but also a little sad, without the raucous presence of Meng Shao Fei. Zhao Zi seemed willing to give up his little piece of Spring Festival happiness, should Jack ask him to, so how could Jack not be willing to give up a small piece of his, in return? Shao Fei was practically Zhao Zi’s family, and they could always spend the next night in.

Zhao Zi opened his mouth, perhaps to be the first to offer to stay at home, but Jack was faster. 

“So, let’s go.”

Zhao Zi’s hesitance vanished and a grin spread across his features. “Really? You mean it?”

Jack nodded. Fondness swelled within him as his husband scrambled out of his seat, skidded around the table, and wrapped him in a tight, happy hug, leaving traces of flour all over Grandma’s apron.

“I’ll tell Shao Fei to run defense on Hong Ye,” Zhao Zi offered helpfully. 

“I think I am capable of handling her myself,” he said, skeptical that Meng Shao Fei, or any man, would have any success on that front.

* * *

Jack had never seen Tang Yi’s mansion decked out in full Spring Festival splendor. Hanging lanterns with trailing crimson tassels adorned the ceiling, decorative strings of fake fireworks dangled from the walls and red banners in glittering gold lettering with auspicious wishes were plastered across the doors. It was well beyond the line separating tasteful from garish. Since Tang Yi’s tastes usually tended toward restraint—unless his stint in prison had really done a number on him—Jack surmised that Captain Meng must have had a heavy hand in the decoration.

“What do you think?” Shao Fei asked eagerly as he led them into the living room. “An improvement on the Scandinavian furniture catalog aesthetic, am I right?”

“It’s…” Zhao Zi paused, searching for the right word so as not to offend his best friend.

“Festive,” Jack finished quickly. He flashed Meng Shao Fei an impenetrable smile.

“Yeah, festive,” Zhao Zi agreed, following his husband’s cue.

If the decor was overwhelming Zhao Zi’s sensibilities— a man who still had posters from his favorite anime on the walls of their bedroom—then it must be powerful indeed. 

“See? They like it!” Shao Fei turned to Zuo Hong Ye, who was sitting primly on the living room couch, the better part of a generously-sized glass of white wine already empty.

“They’re just saying that to be polite,” Hong Ye sniffed, as she drained the rest of the wine.

“I’m sure Tang Yi appreciates the opportunity to celebrate the New Year in the traditional style,” Jack said amicably.

“He sure does.” Shao Fei regarded his future sister-in-law imperiously, before she could retort. The look was returned with equal intensity, but Shao Fei considered it his victory anyway, which irked Hong Ye, judging from the way her mouth pressed into a thin line as he turned away from her.

“Don’t mind her,” Shao Fei said quietly. “She always gets like this during the holidays.” A peanut, launched by Hong Ye, hurtled through the air at surprising speed toward Shao Fei, but he caught it in his hand and popped it into his mouth nonchalantly, as if he was used to having to fend off tiny projectiles. 

Gu Dao Yi slid the bowl of peanuts away from Hong Ye before his wife could throw another. 

“Anyways, I’m going to go help Tang Yi finish cooking. We’ll be done in a few. You two make yourselves at home.”

Jack tried to keep the surprise off of his face as he slid onto the loveseat alongside Zhao Zi. He remembered Tang Yi’s love of cooking, but even then, as the head of the Xing Tian Group, when he cooked, he had only ever cooked for family. When he was throwing a celebration for the executives in the syndicate, he’d always had it catered. Jack let the importance of that sink in as Hong Ye pointedly ignored him in favor of conversing with his husband instead.

“Wine?” Dao Yi asked, smoothly filling over the chasm of etiquette very purposefully left by his wife. He nudged the bowl of peanuts in Jack’s direction. Jack took a generous handful, if only to give Director Zuo less literal ammunition should Shao Fei come back out of the kitchen and start another disagreement with her.

“I’ll take the Asahi instead, thank you,” Jack said, nodding at the bottle of Japanese lager sitting on ice next to the Australian chardonnay. 

“Of course.” Dao Yi insisted on opening it and handing it to him, even though Jack could have helped himself, but before the bottle touched his lips, Zhao Zi nudged him firmly in the ribs. 

“Jack,” Zhao Zi said sweetly, eyeing the beer and shooting him a winning smile.

Jack took a swig of the Asahi and then passed it onto his husband, whose grin only widened. 

“Thank you,” beamed Zhao Zi, nudging him affectionately this time, as he took a sip. Zhao Zi turned back to Hong Ye, who had a look of mild distaste on her face, as if she couldn’t imagine that anybody would want to share a drink with Jack, nevermind that they were married and shared more than just their drinks on the regular. 

Amused, Jack turned his attention back to Gu Dao Yi, who now had the faintest glimmer of a smile on his face. His gaze asked Jack if he gave into Zhao Zi’s requests all the time, to which the answer was, of course. Of course he gave Zhao Zi whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. They had been together for more than three years, and Jack still had it as bad as the first time he’d hauled Zhao Zi back to this very house for the gentlest interrogation he had ever held. 

“Shall I get you another one?” Dao Yi asked.

“I think I know where Shao Fei keeps his beer,” replied Jack, starting to rise. Captain Meng had moved a few things around when he had taken up permanent residence—moving Tang Yi’s stuff aside to make room for his own—but he had not touched the booze cupboard.

Gu Dao Yi smiled for real this time, more with his eyes than with his mouth, and Jack belatedly realized that he had been thinking of this house as more Meng Shao Fei’s than Tang Yi’s. 

“You’re the guest,” said Dao Yi firmly, rising to his feet faster than Jack. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.”

This left Zhao Zi and him alone with Zuo Hong Ye, who was finally obligated to say a few nice words to him, in the spirit of the holidays and all. Her bitterness that Jack had gotten away with aiding and abetting the crimes Tang Yi had confessed to had not abated one bit even though her brother had served his sentence. She still blamed him for Tang Yi’s incarceration, though why she didn’t direct more of that ire in Shao Fei’s direction was a mystery. It was hardly fair to accuse Jack of being a snitch when Tang Yi was also dating a cop—but not just any cop, the one that had literally been on his case for four years before that. Nevertheless, Jack bore the brunt of her suspicions with good humor, if only because his indifference to her low opinion of him annoyed her even more.

They exchanged the barest of courtesies, the most cursory of New Year’s wishes, before moving on.

“I was talking to Zhao Li An about possibly upgrading the security system he installed three years ago. Now that Tang Yi’s out, I’m worried some of the old Xing Tian Group bosses will come to settle scores, and it wouldn’t do to have any gaps in security around here,” she finished pointedly, and swirled her wine glass idly while staring right at Jack.

Jack smirked, amused by how Hong Ye was still trying to needle him about his sudden and timely departure from Tang Yi’s service years ago. 

“Then Zhao Zi’s probably the man you want to hire for the job,” said Jack lightly, throwing an arm around his husband’s shoulders. He resisted the urge to grin as Hong Ye’s mouth compressed noticeably at his use of the word, ‘hire.’ Had she been hoping that his husband would volunteer his time for free? “He’s good enough that he broke through all the administrative blocks I put down on the surveillance software.”

Hong Ye sat up straight, so abruptly a few drops of wine sloshed over her glass. “What?!” 

Zhao Zi shrugged, instinctively shifting closer to Jack. “Oh, when I was installing the original system, Jack tried to lock me out of administrator access, but it was pretty easy to find a workaround.”

Jack grinned, always pleased to turn the conversation toward his husband and his competence. “He’s pretty good at that.”

“You’ve had administrator access to the surveillance software this entire time?” 

“It’s not that hard to get into any off-the-shelf software, to be honest,” Zhao Zi explained. “But don’t worry, I didn’t connect it to any network. I have better things to do than watch the security footage around here.” 

Jack shot Hong Ye a significant look, making it clear what, or who, Zhao Zi was likely doing instead with his free time. She looked between them, making a noise of disgust in the back of her throat. 

“Jack, you were supposed to report any potential breaches of the new security system,” she growled, through gritted teeth.

“If I recall, the biggest security breach had already moved in by then,” said Jack, cocking his head in the direction of the kitchen where Meng Shao Fei and Tang Yi were still preparing the evening meal.

Gu Dao Yi reappeared, with a freshly opened, chilled bottle of Asahi. 

Hong Ye rounded on her husband, clearly having had enough of Jack and Zhao Zi. “Did you put the cyanide it in it like I asked?” she asked with saccharine cheer.

“Of course,” Dao Yi replied. He handed the beer to Jack.

“Oh, this’ll tickle on the way down, then.” Jack took a deep swill, while Zhao Zi looked affronted that Zuo Hong Ye would even joke about poisoning his husband.

Jack was in the midst of taking another drink from his beer when from the kitchen, there emitted a started yelp. The sound was followed swiftly by a loud, metallic clang. Jack could hear Meng Shao Fei and Tang Yi argue in hushed tones, though their voices didn’t carry well enough for him to make out what they were saying. 

“Ah-Fei, are you okay over there?” Zhao Zi called, concerned. 

A few seconds later, Shao Fei came shuffling out, looking harried, with a giant grease stain splashed across most of the surface of his apron.

“Um, Jack,” he began. “I, uh, think we need your advice with some of the cooking.”

Jack smirked. He had heard a different word from ‘advice’, that Shao Fei had been too embarrassed to say. “Sure, any way that I can help.” 

Jack noted, out of the corner of his eye, that Zhao Zi had scooped up an entire handful of the peanuts out of the bowl, while still managing to keep it out of Hong Ye’s reach. He was putting them in his mouth, one after the other, at a rate that indicated he was shooting beyond ‘peckish’ and quickly toward ‘famished’.

If dinner weren’t served inside the next half hour, Zhao Zi would probably start gnawing on the furniture, so Jack got up and dutifully followed Shao Fei into the kitchen.

* * *

Tang Yi looked up when Jack entered the kitchen, feeling a strange mixture of chagrin and relief as his former right-hand man appeared and surveyed the room. He had thrown the cat out of the kitchen, wiped up the oil spill it had caused when it had gotten underfoot and tripped up Shao Fei, and he was mostly on top of the spring rolls while keeping the rest of the traditional Spring Festival foods that were already prepared warm, but even he had to admit the kitchen looked like a war zone. 

Tang Yi had expected one of Jack’s sardonic smiles, but his expression was surprisingly matter-of-fact.

“Do you want me to roll or deep-fry?” Jack asked simply.

“You’re probably faster than me at rolling,” replied Tang Yi, reluctant to admit that he was slow at it due to being three years out of practice.

Jack nodded curtly, and strode over to the kitchen island where the bulk of the spring roll wrappers and the filling—chinese cabbage, wood ear, egg, and glass noodles—were still laid out. Wordlessly, he got to work, folding perfect cylindrical packages faster than Tang Yi could deep fry them.

Ah-Fei hovered, as if he ought to make himself available to do something useful at a moment’s notice, but with Jack here, suddenly the process of spring rolls was moving smoothly and efficiently.

Tang Yi smiled, peeking at his fiancé out of the corner of his eye, tickled by the cuteness of Meng Shao Fei as he shifted his weight from right to left to right again, unused to having no task assigned to him and nothing to do. Tang Yi was of half a mind to keep him here, since they had spent the past few years apart and he intended to make up that lost time, but Ah-Fei’s anxious energy was even beginning to distract Jack.

“Why don’t you go set the table?” Tang Yi asked kindly, though he was loathe to send his lover even as far as the next room over. 

Shao Fei jumped at the opportunity to do something more than just sit on the sidelines and watch. 

“Food will be ready in about…” Tang Yi paused.

“Fifteen minutes, tops,” Jack supplied.

“That’s soon!” Shao Fei said, and sprang into a flurry of action.

Tang Yi watched him go, over-frying two spring rolls until they were brown. Well, they were still edible, he thought, as he fished them out and laid them to cool on a paper towel. They worked well, the popping and hissing of the oil in the wok the only sound that punctuated the comfortable silence between them. Periodically, Jack would walk over and hand him the next batch of spring rolls on a plate. Jack was getting faster as he was going, Tang Yi noted, as more and more of the previous batches were left by the time Jack handed him the next.

Finally, Jack spoke as he approached Tang Yi with a new plate. “The next one’s probably the last.”

Tang Yi took it gratefully. “You should have told me you were good at cooking,” he said. It came out wistful, not an admonishment. He had been surprised the first time that Shao Fei had sat on the other side of the plexiglass pane in the prison’s visitor’s room and told him about Jack’s food truck and his culinary skill.

“I wasn’t,” said Jack.

Tang Yi arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t good at cooking back then. I’d just started learning after I met Zhao Zi.”

Tang Yi paused. “You picked up cooking for Zhao Zi?”

“Yeah,” Jack admitted readily, unabashed about his motives.

Tang Yi smiled. “Well, you know they say that the stomach is the fastest way to a man’s heart.” Especially Zhao Zi’s heart, if what Ah-Fei said about his friend was to be believed.

Jack shrugged. “I was always taught it was through the ribcage.”

It took a moment for Tang Yi to get it, and then he grinned, remembering that Jack had liked to crack the occasional joke like this in private back in the Xing Tian Group days. Tang Yi’s entire world had changed in the three years of his incarceration. Gu Dao Yi had severed relationships quickly with any members that refused to join the legitimate organization, and under Hong Ye’s careful guidance, the nascent company was now one of the fastest growing developers in the Taipei region. Meng Shao Fei had been promoted to Captain of their unit in the Criminal Investigation Division, though from the way the man complained about his long hours and his unruly subordinates, Tang Yi wondered if this was a clever and extended form of punishment being doled out by his superiors. Jack and Zhao Zi had married the week after Tang Yi’s release, a relationship that Tang Yi would have never thought would last. He would have bet on Jack getting bored with being a househusband on the inside of a year, but here he was, still taking care of Zhao Zi.

Even though Ah-Fei had done everything he could to keep Tang Yi updated in prison, he had emerged into a completely different world, as if he had been frozen in stasis while the rest of time moved at double speed. So it was nice to get a glimpse of the old Jack, or perhaps to know that something—like Jack’s macabre sense of humor—had not changed in the intervening time.

“Only if you aim for the right side of the body,” Tang Yi said.

Jack’s deft fingers made the final folds on a spring roll, and without missing a beat, he quipped, “You mean the left side.”

Tang Yi paused in his deep frying, shooting Jack what he thought was a truly withering look. “That’s the shittiest joke I’ve ever heard.”

“Then why are you smiling?” The corners of Jack’s mouth quirked upward.

“I’m not,” said Tang Yi, even though he could feel his grin widening.

There were many ways in which Jack had irreparably broken Tang Yi’s trust—by allowing Chen Wen Hao to approach, by being so bold as to suggest joining the Cambodian operation, especially knowing then that Tang Yi had seen the man as his greatest enemy. He wanted to ask Jack about his intentions back then, even though things had turned out so differently with Jack living in domestic bliss with the most childish and naive of Shao Fei’s squad. But Tang Yi didn’t think he would get an honest answer out of Jack, the man was a master of evasion and non-answers. So Tang Yi told himself it didn’t matter anymore, now that Jack was here helping him, that Jack and Zhao Zi had been there all the times when Shao Fei had needed them while he’d been absent.

Tang Yi turned back to his deep frying, and a few minutes later, Jack passed him the final plate and went to assist Shao Fei in setting the dining room table for the Spring Festival banquet.

* * *

After dinner, they moved from the table back to the couches to finish off the drinks. Tang Yi watched curiously as Zhao Zi—his cheeks flushed bright pink from the three beers he’d consumed—cuddled affectionately and giddily in Jack’s arms. Despite the presence of Jack’s typical easy-going smirk, Tang Yi caught brief glimpses of a gentle expression he had never before seen on Jack’s face—a tenderness he hadn’t known the man was capable of. 

Tang Yi wondered if he had that same expression when he looked at Ah-Fei. He glanced at his fiancé, just to see what Shao Fei’s reaction might be. Ah-Fei caught his eye, and grinned foolishly back, his cheeks also flushed with a little too much wine. Tang Yi supposed that Shao Fei’s daft look likely mirrored his own to some degree. Sheesh, no wonder both Jin Tang and Andy always made fun of him.

It was nearing midnight when Tang Yi not so subtly cut off the supply of alcohol by purportedly running out of it. Hong Ye, in slightly slurred tones, refused to believe him and decried his stinginess, but after Gu Dao Yi rose, she did too, however reluctantly, while Jack hoisted Zhao Zi off the couch. Since Zhao Zi’s arm refused to budge from where it was slung around his shoulders, the result was an awkward princess carry. It was better than the last time Tang Yi had seen Jack sling Zhao Zi over his shoulder, as easily as a sack of rice. They were married now, so at least Zhao Zi wasn’t demanding to be put down. They had come a long way.

Tang Yi followed them to the door to bid his guests a good night. 

Hong Ye was flushed, and there was a light whiff of wine on her breath as she clasped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. Tang Yi was reminded of the first time he and Hong Ye had gotten drunk, when it had been her fourteenth birthday, and they had pilfered a ten year-old bottle of red from Tang-ye’s secret stash of the special stuff to see what all the fuss about wine was over. It had tasted horrible to Tang Yi’s teenaged taste buds, but they had made their way through more than half of it anyway by the time Tang-ye found them. Instead of being angry, Tang-ye had merely laughed. If they’d wanted to try some wine, he’d said they should have invited him, so he could teach him now to properly appreciate it. Then, he had sat down with them in Hong Ye’s room to finish the bottle together. Hong Ye had always had a taste for merlot since.

“Happy New Year,” Hong Ye murmured, and to Tang Yi it sounded as if she had also said, ‘I missed you so much’ and ‘I’m so glad you’re home’ and ‘I love you’ all at once.

“Happy New Year,” Tang Yi replied, and wrapped an arm around her back.

The prison had allowed the occasional conjugal visit, so he had gotten to hold Shao Fei occasionally while serving his penance, but he hadn’t been afforded the opportunity to meet with the rest of his family without a clear window physically separating them. He also had three years of hugging his sister to make up for.

“Come on, you two, the door’s still open and it’s getting drafty in here.” Shao Fei’s voice cut through the silence. He shivered with exaggerated motions and rubbed his arms to emphasize that it was winter out there, and the weather was starting to come inside the house. “We haven’t got all night.”

Hong Ye parted from her brother. “I don’t see why you’re in such a rush,” she sniffed, arching an eyebrow at Ah-Fei. “Besides, I want to see how long that guy can hold Zhao Zi like that,” she gestured in Jack’s direction. 

“We’d be here all night,” replied Jack, with a sly smile. Zhao Zi nuzzled Jack’s hair, and giggled.

Shao Fei rolled his eyes. “Please, it’s late and maybe I want some private time with my partner. You should ask Dao Yi-ge what that feels like.”

Gu Dao Yi gave a Shao Fei a please-don’t-drag-me-into-this look that was soundly ignored. Tang Yi started to grin.

Hong Ye shrugged. “What’s the hurry? It’s not like you’re going to last that long. What’s an extra minute here and there?”

“Okay, okay,” Tang Yi put a hand his fiancé’s chest as Shao Fei started forward. Hong Ye knew exactly how to press Ah-Fei’s buttons, and she wielded that knowledge with precision when it suited her, which was unfortunately often.

“I think we better get going,” said Gu Dao Yi diplomatically, but Hong Ye dragged out the ritual well wishes and goodbyes, until she ran out of auspicious things to say and finally let her husband steer her out of the house and toward their Audi parked in the driveway.

Tang Yi wanted to ask if Jack’s arms were aching by the time it was their turn to say goodbye, but knew better than to insult the man’s pride. Jack had to twist as he carried Zhao Zi through the door, so as not to whack his husband’s head or legs against the frame.

“Thanks,” Jack said, regarding Tang Yi with that familiar smirk and those slightly arched brows that meant something in the evening had been a pleasant surprise. “I had a good time.” 

Tang Yi had expected to detect a hint of sarcasm in Jack’s tone, but found it unexpectedly earnest. “You’re welcome,” he replied. “And thanks for the help.” Tang Yi smiled, briefly, not knowing how else to convey that whatever choices Jack had made in the past, whatever had been broken between them before, they were good now. Tang Yi didn’t want to be the type of man moving forward but always glancing over his shoulder. Despite the multitude of differences between Jack and him, perhaps they were similar in this.

Jack inclined his head, a barely perceptible acknowledgement. 

_We’re good._

Then Zhao Zi, maybe thinking that they were dithering too long on the doorstep, started nibbling the shell of Jack’s ear. Jack rushed through his well wishes for the new year, and then beat a hasty retreat.

Tang Yi shut the door, left alone with Shao Fei at last. It had taken so long to say farewell to the guests that he was feeling the chill permeating the entryway. 

“You’re right,” he said to Shao Fei. “It is cold.”

“See?” Shao Fei threw his arms up in mock exasperation, then smoothly wound them around Tang Yi’s neck. “You should always listen to me.”

“About what?”

“About everything,” Shao Fei grinned impishly. “And especially about leaving the dishes undone so we can go straight to bed.” His fingers brushed the front of Tang Yi’s trousers suggestively. 

“I’ve been waiting all night,” Shao Fei murmured in a tone that was supposed to be husky and seductive, but just ended up sounding like he had chronic bronchitis. Even so, the words had their intended effect on Tang Yi. 

He definitely deserved Jin Tang and Andy’s endless ridicule, he thought, as he pulled Shao Fei in for a kiss, the passionate kind he only gave in private.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the esteemed [bonibaru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonibaru) and [naye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/naye) for their betas during the busy holiday season.
> 
> I know that the left/right/correct joke doesn't actually translate in Chinese, but let me have this one.


End file.
